Stolen Chaos: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Cardkeeper Chronicles Book 1)

by A. C. Nicholls

  I felt her eyes rove over me, summing me up.

  Finally, she lowered the pistol. “Close the doors and come downstairs.” She headed for the well-lit landing, stopping just outside the door. “Bring your faery with you.”

  As soon as she retreated, I could feel Link scrambling up my back and leaning on my shoulder with his hands. His bare toenails dug into my back like a makeshift perch. “Phew. For a minute there, I thought she was going to shoot you.”

  I crooked my neck to glare at him. “Then thanks for jumping in.”

  “Hey,” he said, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with his arm. “You’re the one with the magic. I’m just a handsome little faery – nothing more.”

  “I’m starting to understand how you haven’t earned your wings.”

  Link huffed, pulled himself up and crossed his arms like a defiant child having a tantrum. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  It was easier to ignore than endure. I closed the balcony doors as the woman had asked, and made my way downstairs. The exquisite beauty of the mansion’s interior shocked me. I mean, I had seen my fair share of stunning buildings – the Vault for one – but the décor in this place reeked of money and class. Oil paintings adorned the oak-paneled walls. Green plants brightened up the corners, and the huge landing overlooked an enormous stairwell. Awed by the grandeur of it all, I made my way downstairs and into a living room that could have been used as a landing strip.

  Karen – assuming of course that it was Karen – ushered her last three guests out the door, promising that she would explain it to them later. When we were finally alone, she sat on one of the couches and gestured for me to sit across from her.

  With fearful hesitation, I sank into the plush wingback opposite her and snuggled down into the cushions. If I wanted her to talk, I needed to obey her command. I waited, trying to peel my eyes away from the ridiculously high ceiling. Blinking a few times, I chased the bright light from my eyes. Keeping myself from staring at the place was my next challenge.

  “So, you’re a Cardkeeper,” the woman said, crossing her legs and patting down her black skirt. “I haven’t seen one of your kind in quite some time. Must have been around twenty years ago, in London.”

  I was familiar with the Keeper of London’s pillar. His name was Owen and he came from a rich family. A smarmy asshole who couldn’t help but brag about his wealth. Thankfully, I’d had no reason to work alongside him, and hopefully never would.

  “How is it you know about faeries and Keepers?”

  “Let’s just say I have a history with a mage.”

  Link slid down my arm and sat beside me on the couch. I wasn’t sure if he understood social etiquette, but he sat quietly. It made for a pleasant change.

  “Listen, I’m sorry for breaking into your beautiful home.”

  The woman gave an upturn of her thin lips, but said nothing.

  “It looked like you were having a party,” I went on, “and I didn’t want to interrupt. For all I knew, I could have been wandering into a vampire den, and that wouldn’t have ended well for me.”

  “It’s all right. You’re forgiven,” said the woman. “You were looking for Karen Saunders and you’ve found her. What is it you wanted to know?”

  I want to know what you are. I want to know how you can be so aware of the monsters around you, and still act so damn normal. Mortals didn’t tend to last long if they interfered with the lifestyle of creatures, much less if they had witnessed a massacre.

  “What did you see at the park last night?”

  Karen sat up straight and cleared her throat. Her false-as-hell smile suddenly dropped into a frown, either from displeasure or fear. “You’re familiar with otherworldly things, so I’ll talk openly.”

  I nodded, sitting up and moving to the edge of my seat.

  “There was a charity ball in that area, and I’d had no choice but to attend. It was an entirely mortal affair, save for the one mage that I’ve known for years. I was thrilled to see him again, so I made my approach and tried to catch his attention. Only, something was different about him. His eyes had a purplish glow – something sinister.” Karen lowered her eyes, an expression of sadness stealing away her expression. “Imagine if you had known somebody intimately for many moons, and then one day they looked right through you. It was like his body had been hollowed out, and his soul replaced with someone else’s.” She shook her head. “No, like something else lived inside of him.”

  I said nothing, waiting with rapt attention for her next words.

  “The mage left shortly after that, taking the back door. You have to understand, this was unusual for him – he liked to be the center of attention. Of course, handsome features and unrelenting charm gave him that confidence.

  “Anyway, I decided to follow him, curious to see exactly what he was up to. I don’t consider it acceptable to follow people and spy on them, but like I told you, I had a history with this man. I wanted to see what had changed.

  “We made it to the park, where I hid behind a tree and watched him waltz off into the dark. There were teenagers hurling unprovoked abuse at him, and a group of hooded men were also following him. I wanted to call the police, but–”

  I suddenly had an idea of where this conversation was headed. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Exactly.” Karen dabbed her wrist below her nose, as if trying her hardest not to cry. But her wavering voice gave away her emotions. “They surrounded him, shoved him around while he did nothing. He looked like a lost little boy. They must have pushed him over the edge, because he spread out his arms – like an angel, I suppose – and a purple light shone from him.

  “There was a blast. An explosion. The boys were launched through the air, thrown around like ragdolls, and landed across the park.” She paused and chased away a shiver by rubbing her arms with her trembling hands. “One of them fell at my feet, so I witnessed first-hand what happened to him next.”

  I wanted to put my arm around Karen and still her quivering body, which was drenched in the pain of her unpleasant memories. But underneath it, her lingering pride wouldn’t allow her to break down, so I remained seated. I settled for a quiet swallow, my mouth turning dry as I listened. “Go on.”

  “Purple light crawled all over the young man, eating him like it was alive. I began to see a transformation into his true self. His claws came out, but the light turned them to ash within seconds. By the time his wolfish face appeared, I got only a brief glimpse of the fear reflected in his eyes, before his entire body obliterated into nothing but dust in the breeze.”

  I sat quietly, taking this in. Link shifted uncomfortably beside me. He must have been terrified of what we were up against. I knew I was.

  “This man is a monster,” Karen said, looking up and directly into my eyes. “A mere shadow of his former self. If there’s any chance that you can stop him, I advise you do it sooner rather than later.”

  Needless to say, I was totally blown away by the story – petrified, but fascinated nonetheless. “If you don’t mind my asking, why is it that you seem more haunted by the death of the werewolves than the fact that they actually exist? Mages are one thing, but–”

  “I’m a witch, dear. Nothing gets by me.”

  She admitted it with such confidence that, had I been standing, the news would have knocked me down. A witch. That explained everything; how she knew about the underworld, why I couldn’t sense her magic. Witches’ magic is different from Cardkeepers’. It comes from somewhere below, a different source entirely. It was darker, but equally powerful. On the bright side, they usually kept to themselves.

  “I see.” Tense, I stretched my back and scooped Link into my hands. “Would it be too much trouble to give me the name of the mage? You say you knew him.”

  “Yes, I did,” Karen said. “We were lovers back in the day. You might know him, actually. His name is Victor Kronin.”

  A chill shot through me, freezing me in place. Of course I knew the
name – the man made nightmares look like daydreams. As if I didn’t fear the Chaos thief enough to begin with, this revelation pushed my confidence back a few steps.

  “Thank you for the information,” I said, picking up Link and rushing to leave.

  Karen looked confused. “Wouldn’t you like to stay for some refreshment?”

  “I really have to get going. Thanks again.”

  I blew out the front door in a flash, rushing down the half-mile driveway. I had no idea what to do with this new information, other than give it to somebody braver and hide until this whole ordeal was over.

  “Where are we going?” Link asked, clutching my sleeve.

  “To the Vault,” I said, breaking into a sprint.

  That chill lingered on my spine. Goosebumps raised on my arms. Nobody had ever left me feeling as utterly helpless as Victor Kronin had. I needed to get to the vault and seek help, and I had to do it before my nerves overwhelmed me.

  Chapter 8

  As much as I wanted to just go home and hide under the duvet, I knew that this responsibility had to land on someone. Anyone else would do – hell, it could be Link for all I cared. As long as I didn’t have to go toe-to-toe with Victor Kronin, nothing else mattered.

  Storming so fast that my hair trailed behind me, I crossed the main floor of Jasper’s VHS store and stopped at the counter. I probably looked as pale as a ghost. “I need a portal.”

  Jasper lowered his newspaper prop so just his eyes peeked over the headlines and sat up in his ragged office chair. “You do, do you? And what’s in it for me?”

  “I’m not in the mood for games, pal. Please just do it.”

  Red in the face, Jasper deflated and narrowed his eyes as though he wanted to question my blunt arrival. He must have thought better of it, as he climbed straight up out of the chair and passed through the red curtain at the back of the store.

  “Stay here,” I said to Link, setting him down on the counter and following Jasper. I passed the curtain and watched him work, wishing I could light a fire under his ass. This was an emergency situation.

  Almost casual enough to be smooth, Jasper’s fingers wound in a circle, and the portal began to open. A steady breeze blew through, making an even bigger mess of my tangled hair. I stared inside, in awe of his skill. “Before you go,” he said, arms outstretched to hold the spell, “how about a kiss?”

  I ignored Jasper, slid on a robe and dove straight through the portal, pretending I didn’t notice the contorted look on his face. Like a pedophile with an outdated laptop – a harmless one, albeit, but a pervert nonetheless.

  Unknowing whether this would be the last time, I made my way toward the Vault and stopped at the entrance to the Grand Hall, where one robed man stood guard. I checked his sash – yellow. A messenger.

  “Could I speak with Dalton and the Elders?” I asked in a rush.

  I was given only a brief glance. “What does it concern?”

  “Kronin.”

  He withdrew as if he’d seen a two-headed monster. “One moment.”

  The messenger disappeared through the large iron doors, returning minutes later with Dalton by his side. I wasn’t used to seeing him alone, and I even wondered if it was Dalton. He looked naked without his tiny Elders flanking him. Only his voice confirmed his identity.

  “Lady Keira. I hear news of our friend Victor.”

  “He’s not our friend,” I quipped.

  Dalton froze, nodded, and then waved a hand to show me to one of his many workshops. The small, circular room had only a workbench and a shelf of ancient scrolls. One small, glassless window sat in the far wall, allowing a chill to sneak in. Dalton closed the door and leaned against it. “What of Victor Kronin?”

  I took a breath and closed my eyes, unsure of how to say it. “Victor is the magicard thief. A witness saw him at Jackson Park, obliterating a pack of werewolves.”

  “You’re… sure of it?”

  “Going by the condition of the park, not to mention how sincere the witness sounded, I’d say yes. I’m sure. Look, I can’t do this. Going up against the Chaos card was one thing, but I can’t fight Victor. I could barely defeat him before, and now he’s stronger than ever.”

  Dalton pulled a hand from his sleeve and cupped mine. “Lady Keira, you are also stronger than before. Both in your mind and in your physical skill. I’ve watched you grow from an irresponsible mortal to a heroic guardian. Have faith in your abilities.”

  “But the card…” I didn’t want to say it, just because I didn’t want to hear it myself. A young and ambitious mage twenty-eight years ago, Victor had competed with me to earn the role of Cardkeeper. After an accident that cost another mage his life, the elders banished him from the Vault and banned him from practicing magic. Months later, when he had reemerged to steal power from another mage, I’d stopped him. Me. Even then, after an explosive battle through the city, I had barely escaped with my life. And Victor… well, we’d all thought he’d met a grizzly end and the city was safe. Until today.

  “The card is nothing compared to the power inside you.” Dalton released my hand and inspected a nearby shelf, pulling a scroll from its slot. “I believe in you, Keira Poe, and so shall you. If I didn’t think you could defeat Victor, I wouldn’t put the fate of the Vault or the Sacred Temple in your hands. Here.” He held the scroll out to me.

  I took it, mulling over his words. He could be quite convincing when he wanted to be – he almost made me believe in myself, too. Almost. “What’s this?”

  “Everything you need to know.”

  I slid the scroll from its bamboo casing and rolled it open. A blank page stared back at me, but as I looked at it harder, an image revealed itself. It was as if it had been there all along, and a chemical had been applied to make it visible to the naked eye. Anxious, I kept staring until a house appeared on the tattered yellow paper.

  “Is this…”

  Dalton nodded.

  A car swept past the house and a bird flew to rest on the roof. I hissed in a breath, realizing that I wasn’t looking at a photograph, but at a holographic image of Victor Kronin’s home in real time. “I doubt he will be home,” I said, without looking up. “Last I heard, the power of the Chaos card corrupted him. I can’t imagine he would still be playing Happy Families.”

  “Mayhap that is for the best.” Dalton took the scroll from my hands and replaced it on the shelf. “You have the opportunity to gather information before you find him. Learn of his intentions and study his movements. There could be a weakness to exploit, ensuring an easy defeat.”

  Yeah, right. That’ll be the day.

  I wanted to refuse him – to hand over my robe and drop my magicard by his feet. Maybe the soul of the card had rubbed off on me – it wasn’t in my nature to be that nasty, despite my fear.

  “All right,” I clipped out. “But if things get out of hand, I’ll be turning in my card.” I spun on my heel and made for the door, taking quick strides so as I couldn’t be stopped.

  Stopping me, Dalton’s firm voice floated over my back and reached my ears.

  “If that day comes, may our souls be shown mercy.”

  Chapter 9

  In the morning, an hour-long, ass-numbing bus ride brought me to Victor Kronin’s home in Bucktown. I stood at the top of the steps to his house, turned and saw kids playing basketball in a well-maintained court across the street. The tall, widely separated buildings allowed the late-November sun to blaze across on my face.

  I used my hand to shield my eyes from the light and glanced up at the house. Red sandstone. Perfectly clean. Rich mahogany front door and not a spot of dust on the windows. Somehow, I couldn’t picture the infamous Victor Kronin living here, but that didn’t seem to stop my legs from shaking as I pounded on the door and waited for a response.

  “Not gonna lie,” Link mumbled from the pocket of my new jacket, “I hope he’s not in.”

  “Shush,” I said, but silently agreed with him.

  A minute passed. No an
swer. Maybe I could break in and have a little snoop around. There could be something helpful inside that would lead me to Victor’s whereabouts. But the car pulling up behind me ripped that possibility straight out from under me like a rug.

  “Stay quiet,” I warned Link as I trotted down the path and approached the red BMW. It was a convertible with a white leather interior, and the dark-skinned, curly-haired woman behind the wheel removed her sunglasses to analyze me.

  “Can I help you?” she asked in a way that sounded both accusatory and helpful. I could imagine her working at a school as the grumpy principal.

  “Maybe you can,” I said, casting an envious eye over the beautiful car. “Sorry to drop in on you like this, but I’m looking for Victor Kronin.”

  The woman snickered. “Ain’t we all?” She killed the engine and climbed out of the car. Opening the rear door, she lifted two large grocery bags from the seat and dumped one into my arms. “Here, carry this.”

  I took it in silence and followed her up the steps, hoping that Link hadn’t just met his premature demise under the weight of a shopping bag. Death by groceries.

  I only got as far as the hallway, when the woman stopped and took the bag from me, dumping them both on the floor. As I glanced around, I wondered why her interior decorator still had a job. Old-fashioned, puce foil wallpaper hung on the walls – a floral décor and a scent too aggressive to be potpourri.

  “What business do you have with my husband?” the woman asked.

  My shocked eyes dropped to her ring finger, noticing the white band of skin where a ring had shielded it from the sun. Husband, I thought, or ex? I wasn’t sure how much I could tell her. It wasn’t likely that Victor had explained his sordid past. I could only imagine how that conversation would have gone; “Oh, honey, I can move things with my mind,” or perhaps “Oh darling, my sweet, raven-haired snob, please don’t be afraid. Flying is perfectly normal among my people.” Some people just couldn’t accept the truth right in front of their own eyes, and so I suspected that Mrs. Kronin had been kept in the dark about her husband’s abilities.